


The End of Margot's World

by GentlyMorbid



Series: The Average Lives of Alana and Margot Verger-Bloom [12]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: And hate me, And how much you are glad that the chapter ended, F/F, Graphic Self Harm, Please tell me how much you hate me, you will cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 02:06:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5229761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GentlyMorbid/pseuds/GentlyMorbid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Margot's world has ended. How does she cope?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End of Margot's World

Alana was dead.

Margo’s grip on the phone slackened, before she herself fell to the floor, inconsolable. She had never thought it possible; that her princess, her Alana, could ever lose her life, especially not like this. She held herself desperately, as if she were dying herself. How could she live without Alana? Margot could not fathom a world without her fiancé, even barely a year after they had met.

Applesauce howled, having sensed that something was deeply wrong. She ran to Margot, who cried into her fur, with great, heaving sobs. There had to be some mistake. Her Alana couldn’t be dead. She would have to make sure. She probably just dreamt the phone call. Yes, that was it. She was dreaming.

If she was dreaming, then why did she feel so awake? She scrambled up, accidentally toppling Applesauce from her, as she reached for the car keys. She had to go to the hospital, to the morgue, where they would have most likely moved Alana’s body. Over the phone, they didn’t tell Margot much about the specifics of the cause of Alana’s death, but now she was going to find out, for all the damage it would do her.

Margot drove without really seeing, and by the time she registered her surroundings, she was parked at the hospital. She ran to the reception and pleaded with the same nurse that greeted her yesterday to let her see Alana. The nurse was as sympathetic as before, directing Margot to Nurse Wilkes, who would escort her to where they kept Alana’s body.

Margot couldn’t bear to think of her as just a body. There had to be a mistake. She would go to the morgue and find that Alana was healthy and that they had mistaken another woman for her. She felt a little better, skipping a little, nervously, as they made their way down, confident that everything would be fine. They entered the cold, grey morgue, where a body was lain on a slab, waiting for her.

Margot felt dizzy at the sight of it. Sure, it wasn’t Alana, but she wasn’t accustomed to seeing dead bodies. She wanted to leave as soon as possible, and demand to see Alana, wherever they were keeping her. She approached the body and nearly reeled over in shock. The face and hair were unmistakably Alana’s. In death, she had found peace, her face almost serene, while pale as a ghost would have been. Which she was now, Margot thought, before blacking out.

 

* * *

 

Margot slowly came to, in a hospital bed of her own. She jerked up, wanting to know why she was there, when it dawned on her what had happened. She had seen Alana’s body and fainted. She had _fainted_!

Margot Verger didn’t _faint_! Especially not at the sight of her lover’s body! She was stronger than that! Alana deserved more than her if she couldn’t handle the sight. What had Margot been thinking, all those months? Why did she ever have to meet Alana? Alana would have been so much better off without her.

Margot cursed. Why did she have to be so stupid? Why didn’t she lock the door before Alana came in and found her? Why did she have to hurt herself in the first place? It was too late for retrospect, Margot angrily thought. Her weaknesses had cost her princess, fatally.

Margot got out of the bed, before grabbing her shoes and walking out of the hospital, with various nurses and orderlies failing to stop her. She made her way to the car, before revving it angrily, and driving off, not looking back.

She had to exact punishment for her carelessness. Hopefully, she would be able to atone for what she had done. Maybe that would ease her guilt and the empty hole she felt in her chest. She got home, slamming the door behind her, nearly throwing it off its hinges. She proceeded to her, no, _their_ bedroom, before proceeding to demolish everything she could get her hands on.

By the time, she had finished, she felt no better, looking around the room that was covered in glass, with desks and drawers upturned. She knew of only one other way that would help her heal, so she proceeded to her secret drawer, and, no longer with the need for secrecy, ripped it out and flung it down the stairs, after retrieving her supplies and tools.

Without any preparation, she started to cut into her arms, her stomach, her legs, everywhere she could inflict her vengeance. She started crying, whether from the physical or emotional pain, she could not tell. As she bled carelessly, she noted that she wasn’t feeling any better.

With that thought, she stabbed herself in the leg. The pain was intense. She shrieked and swore and cursed herself for putting Alana in harm’s way. She hated herself, at that very moment, and wished for nothing more than to switch places with her beloved.

Her rage finally spent, she collapsed back onto the bed, feeling numb, in pain and light headed. She chastised herself: why she ever thought she could make up for Alana’s death, or somehow bring her back, was beyond her. Her blood offering made no difference. Alana was dead and she was never coming back.

 

* * *

 

She fell asleep, fitfully, uncaring as to the amount of blood she was losing, only to wake up twenty minutes later, in intense pain. Damn her for being so impulsive, she thought. She could barely move for the pain and so decided to continue laying in her bed, apathetic to the notion of her own possible death.

She faintly registered Applesauce licking her face, while avoiding her wounds. Applesauce was the only one who could even come close to feeling her pain right now. She had loved Alana too, with that gentle, unconditional love that dogs have. Margot patted Applesauce’s head, silently thanking her for being there to accompany Margot in her grief.

Margot reflected on her brief life with Alana. They were so happy together, they made the perfect couple and they were engaged to be married. They hadn’t set a date, though, Margot realised. In a way, she was glad, because now she didn’t have to worry about being late for the wedding. That thought gave her some comfort, amongst the numbness she felt.

Now all she had left was Applesauce, though being the loyal, loving companion that she was, she could never replace Alana. No one could. Margot wished and pleaded silently that something would come along to make time reverse, to make the teacup come together, as a barely remembered saying went.

As Margot slipped in and out of consciousness, she pictured Alana’s face, the smile she had come to love and her beautiful blue eyes, which she gazed upon, and into, frequently. Comforted by this image of Alana, Margot slipped quietly away, her last thought being that she was going to see Alana again, as the sweet oblivion of death claimed her, the only living witness being Applesauce the Dog, quiet in realisation and her head bowed in mourning.

The dog howled in intense grief, the sound echoing through the now completely empty mansion, save for her own presence. Then she lay down beside her mother and friend and went to sleep.

 

* * *

Margot woke with a start, grasping blinding, until she opened her eyes, her gaze falling upon the sight of the eyes she had been dreaming of. Alana was smiling with slight concern, sitting up in her hospital bed, as she asked, “Did you have a nightmare, Margot?”

Speechless, Margot jumped up and hugged Alana, crying as she did so, with the realisation that Alana was alive and well. She cried, “I d-d-dreamed that y-you were d-dead!” She neglected to reveal the fact that she had also committed suicide, however.

Alana stroked her hair, “I’m alright Margot. I’m fine. Well, fine considering the circumstances. I’m sure you had a tough night. I’m glad you’re here, dear.”

“Applesauce… Applesauce misses you. We cuddled together while you were… were gone.” Margot even missed Applesauce, so shaken by her nightmare that she was. Alana looked at her in sympathy, “Well, hopefully, I’ll be able to go home soon and see Applesauce, hey? The doctors were talking about releasing me in a couple of days, so you two shouldn’t have to wait too long. Then we need to talk, Margot.”

Margot nodded, not caring that she knew what Alana was referring to. She was just glad that she was alive for her to love. Margot continued crying into Alana’s lap as Alana rocked her back and forth, slowly and gently. Eventually, Margot lifted her head, cleared her throat and adopted a steely gaze that she aimed at her princess, “Never do that ever again, Alana! What were you thinking? No, why _weren’t_ you thinking?! You’ve never had an accident in your life! You scared us both so much!”

Alana began to cry softly, cowed by Margot’s words, “I’m…I’m so sorry, Margot. I never meant to leave you and get myself almost killed. I… I just… When I saw you…” She broke off, crying even harder, with Margot supplying soothing words and back rubs.

“It’s okay, dear. I forgive you. I was just so worried and then I had a nightmare where… Well, I’m just so glad you’re safe. I’m definitely not letting you drive for a while now, you know that, right?” Alana cracked a weak smile, “The doctors would agree with you completely.

Margot and Alana both smiled at each, content in the knowledge that the other was safe. Eventually, they fell asleep, with small smiles across their faces. It didn’t matter where they were: when they were with each other, they felt like they were home.


End file.
